


Purely Evil

by Cat2000



Series: Broken Spirits [6]
Category: The Locals (2003), Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat2000/pseuds/Cat2000
Summary: Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the movies The Locals or Thunderheart and I’m not making any money from this ficSummary: Follows Anticipation (Thunderheart) and Moments Of Peace (The Locals). The reservation is threatened by the same curse Martin, Grant and Paul had to deal with
Relationships: Martin/Paul/Grant, Walter Crow Horse/Ray Levoi
Series: Broken Spirits [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002315
Kudos: 2





	Purely Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the movie Thunderheart; spoilers for the movie The Locals; AU; violence; some elements of horror; some sexual scenes between three men; some sexual scenes between two men
> 
> Pairing One: Martin/Paul/Grant (The Locals)
> 
> Pairing Two: Walter Crow Horse/Ray Levoi (Thunderheart)
> 
> The awesome TheCarlySutra made me an amazing cover/mood board for this fic that can be found on my site

It was nearly three in the morning by the time Ray left the precinct. Out here on the reservation, the moon and stars provided enough light for him to see his way to the car. That was one major difference from the city, the natural light of the moon and stars versus the street lights.

Reaching his car, Ray took out his keys and tried not to think about the fact that he’d sneaked out on his partner while Walter had been sleeping. His husband likely would have given him permission to come back to the precinct if he’d asked. So why had he been so bent on sneaking out?

Movement at the edge of his vision caught Ray’s attention and he turned, glancing towards the shapes with narrowed, squinting eyes, trying to discern exactly what he was saying.

A woman with long black hair was wrestling with a shadowy figure. Ray’s hand shot to his holster, drawing it in one swift movement and aiming it at the two figures. At the same time, he saw the silvery glint of a knife. “ _Freeze_ ,” he barked out, his heart beating so hard in his chest, it felt like it might explode.

The blade flashed and the woman stumbled to her knees, letting out a gurgling sound, hands flying to her throat.

Letting out a curse, Ray ran over to the two figures. He kept his eyes focused on both of them the whole time, but he must have blinked or something, because the next moment, both of them were gone and there was silence.

The hairs on the back of his neck rising, Ray turned in a slow circle, aiming his gun at the empty air. There was no body. No blood that he could see. No sign of the killer. No sign of his or her victim.

Flashlights lit up as a car drove into view and Ray jumped, letting out a high-pitched scream.

The car came to a stop and Walter jumped out, quickly heading to his side and pulling him into a tight embrace. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice rough.

Ray wrapped his arms tightly around Walter, almost clinging to his husband. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. He was still holding onto his gun, but he’d let his arm drop to his side and belatedly realised he hadn’t even switched the safety off.

Walter held Ray a bit longer, one hand rubbing down his back, before saying softly, “Get in the car. I’ll drive us home. We can pick up your car tomorrow.”

Ray drew in a deep, shuddering breath, still clinging to the comforting warmth of his husband. He didn’t want to raise his head. What if he saw her again? He was used to violence and images of death; perhaps too used to them. But seeing a spirit, which was the only thing he could say that was, had left him more shaken than he could put into words. All he could do was nod and let Walter lead him to the car. He got in and buckled up without a word, breathing in deeply. Even so, it took him until they were halfway home to calm his racing mind and he felt able to hold a conversation. “How did you know where I was?”

“Where else would you have gone in the middle of the night, while I was sleeping?” Underneath the worry, there was a trace of humour in Walter’s voice. He cast a sideways glance towards Ray before asking, “Are you ready to talk about what had you so spooked when I got there?”

Ray took a deep breath and unclenched the fists he hadn’t even realised he’d made. “I saw something.” That seemed far too much of an understatement, so he forced himself to explain further, telling his husband not only what he’d seen, but the conversation he’d had before walking out of the precinct. “I’m not even sure I really saw it,” he admitted. “Maybe everything caught up with me. We’ve been hearing so many eyewitnesses who say the dead are walking….”

Walter was silent for the few minutes it took them to reach their house. Then, after parking the car, he turned to look at Ray. “Do you think you imagined it?”

“No.” Ray sighed. “I know it probably makes me a hypocrite. But I’m completely sure of what I saw. And from what it sounds like, this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

“It’s too late to call him now,” Walter commented. “But in the morning, we’ll get in touch. Arrange a meeting.”

“Yeah. With a guy who’s supposedly died a lot.” Ray let out a heavy sigh and got out of the car, closing the door and waiting for his husband to precede him inside.

Once the door was closed behind them and they’d headed to their bedroom, Walter walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. He patted the mattress next to him. “You left out why you left in the middle of the night in the first place.”

Ray walked slowly over to the bed and sat down on the bed next to his husband. He leaned into the arm Walter wrapped around his shoulders and let out a quiet sigh. “I was feeling out of sorts,” he admitted. “Kind of antsy. I needed to get out of the house and look through some of the case files.”

“Why didn’t you ask me before we went to bed?” Walter asked. “Or even wake me up before you left?”

“I was asking myself that same question,” Ray admitted. “I don’t know why. I don’t have a reason. I don’t have a _good_ reason.” Swallowing hard, he raised his eyes to Walter’s face, forcing himself to make eye contact with his husband. “I wish I could say it won’t happen again, because I know how much it disappoints you when I do something like this. But I can’t make that promise,” he admitted, dropping his voice even lower. “Because if I make that promise and break it, that’s the same as lying to you. Breaking your trust in me. And I can’t do that.” His voice had turned hoarse by the end of his words and he was now staring down at his hands, unable to face Walter.

“We need to deal with this, Ray.” Walter cupped Ray’s face in his hands, encouraging him to look at him. “Whether it’s attention you need, or a release of your emotions to allow you to have a good cry, you don’t have to act out to get what you need.”

The tears filling his eyes startled Ray. He blinked them away, but a few still escaped. He smiled sadly as Walter wiped them away with his thumbs. “I’m trying to remember that,” he whispered.

“I know you are.” Walter brushed his lips against Ray’s in a sweet, tender kiss. “But I also know there are times you need a reminder.”

Ray nodded and waited for Walter to let go of his face. Then, taking a deep breath, he leaned forward of his own accord, bending over his husband’s lap.

Walter only adjusted Ray’s position slightly before he tugged his pants and underwear down, baring his bottom.

Taking a deep breath, Ray put his hands behind his back. He felt his body relax as Walter grasped his hands, holding them against his spine.

“You don’t sneak out in the middle of the night, Ray,” Walter scolded. He delivered a firm smack to Ray’s right cheek. “You don’t sneak out _at all_.” A matching swat landed on Ray’s left buttock.

Breathing in deeply, Ray did his best to hold back his whimpers as Walter began to smack in earnest. It felt like every spot on his backside was given attention, from the crest down to his thighs.

Ray’s eyes began watering as Walter started a second circuit of swats. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.

“I know you are, Ray.” Walter began to smack a bit harder and a bit faster. “And it doesn’t matter how many times we have to deal with this. You might get punished. You might get spanked. But I’ll still love you. Even if I’m disappointed in your actions, I would _never_ be disappointed in _you_.” He focused some more smacks to Ray’s thighs; delivered several to his sit spots, ensuring he would feel it when he sat down later.

Ray’s sobs increased in force and he squirmed a bit over Walter’s lap before finally going limp, accepting the punishment.

After completing a final circuit of smacks, Walter stopped the spanking. He rubbed Ray’s back for a few moments and then helped him up, settling him on his lap and hugging him tightly.

Ray sniffled, resting his head on Walter’s shoulder and snuggling in close. “I’m sorry. I _really will_ try to do better next time.”

“I know you will.” Walter pulled back enough to kiss Ray’s lips, pressing hard and firm, before he pulled Ray down to lay next to him on the bed. “We’ll sleep now,” he said. “In the morning, we’ll call that number. See if we can get answers and figure out how to stop what’s happening.”

Ray nodded and closed his eyes, nuzzling into his husband’s chest. He breathed in deep and settled into sleep.

###

The sun’s light streamed through the window and Martin blinked awake. He didn’t get up, though. Paul and Grant were cuddled to him on either side, one dark and one blond head each resting on his chest.

Martin didn’t know how long he lay like that for, arms wrapped around each of his younger lovers, before Grant began to stir. The younger man rolled onto his back and then let out a tiny, whimpering gasp before he rolled back onto Martin’s arm, pouting. “It still hurts.”

“Then maybe it’ll be a reminder the next time you’re tempted to do something you shouldn’t.” Relenting, Martin rubbed low down on Grant’s back and brought the younger man in close, kissing his cheek and then his forehead. “I love you.”

Grant raised his head and pressed a quick kiss to Martin’s lips. “Every time you say that, it makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. Like melted chocolate. I love you too.”

Martin carded his fingers through Grant’s hair; stroked them down his spine and up under his nightshirt. He pressed a kiss to Grant’s neck.

“Mmm…is it time to get up?” Paul raised his dishevelled head from Martin’s chest, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“It’s time for _me_ to get up.” Martin leaned down and kissed Paul, running his other hand through the blond locks. “You two can help on the farm. Or you can stay here and make breakfast.”

Grant levered himself up onto his elbows and peered down at Martin, his grin turning cheeky. Sliding a hand down Martin’s chest, he asked coyly, “Do you have to get up _right now_?”

With a soft smile, Martin lay back on the bed and gently pulled Grant down on top of him. His other arm pulled Paul in closer.

Paul wrapped his arms around Martin and nuzzled into his neck. “I love you too. And I’m so happy that the curse being broken means that we can be together.” He paused, took a deep breath and then continued, “But it makes me sad that another place has to go through the same things we did.”

As if Paul’s words were a cue, Martin’s phone began to ring from where it sat on the dresser.

Carefully disentangling himself, Martin reached out and picked up his phone. He answered and held it to his ear. “This is Martin.”

“Martin?” The voice on the other end paused, briefly, then asked, “Are you the man who spoke to my husband last night?”

“About the curse?” Martin clarified.

“Do you have proof?”

“Your husband will have given you my address,” Martin said. “You should have access to my birth records, too. My full name is Martin Jacob Greyson. You’ll be able to check when I was born. And when I died. This curse, the one that your home is now going through, caused me to play out my death every single night. I’m living and breathing now, but I still carry the scar of what ultimately killed me. And I can take you directly to my own gravesite.”

There was silence, for several long moments. Then, the man on the other end asked, “How did you break the curse?”

Martin released his breath in a long, slow sigh. “There’s no way to destroy the source of the curse that we know of right now,” he admitted. “But I’m more than willing to work with you to find a way, along with my two younger partners.”

“We don’t have any other leads,” the man said. “You’re about a two hours’ drive from the reservation. I’ll come with my husband to meet you. You can show me this proof and then we can plan how to stop this once and for all.”

“Yeah. Sounds good to me,” Martin agreed.

“My name’s Walter Crow Horse.”

“You already know mine, but my partners are Paul and Grant,” Martin said. “Our place is fairly deserted now. You’re unlikely to see any other souls, living or dead, when you get here.”

“I suppose no one wants to visit a place with such a history,” Walter commented.

“You’d be right,” Martin agreed.

“Me and my husband will be there soon.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” Martin disconnected the call and then turned back to his two partners. He reached out and pulled them both to him, kissing first Paul and then Grant. “Now…where were we?”

###

Ray sighed and let himself slump, boneless, against Walter’s chest. He nuzzled in close and murmured, “I miss the more peaceful moments.”

Walter kissed his head and whispered back, “We’ll have more time like this. But we need to solve this first. Break the curse. And that means driving out to meet Martin and his partners.” He patted Ray’s backside gently. “You go and get the car started. I want to make a couple of calls and find those records.”

Ray nodded and stood up. He headed over to the sink, quickly cleaning himself of any residue and then pulled his clothes on. Giving his hair a quick finger comb, he grabbed the keys from the dresser and headed out of the bedroom as he heard Walter talking on the phone behind him.

Heading outside, Ray unlocked the door and got into the car. He buckled up and then waited, leaning back in the chair with his hands laced behind his head.

In the light of day, it was easier to convince himself that what he’d seen in the moonlight had only been his imagination. He knew what Walter believed; knew his husband saw things differently to him. He himself wasn’t sure what he really believed, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t disagree with the man he loved. He accepted _everything_ about Walter. Just like his husband accepted _everything_ about him.

Walter opening the car door brought Ray out of his thoughts and he smiled as his husband joined him, then frowned in concern as he noticed Walter’s furrowed brow. “What did you find out?” he asked.

“I got hold of the records,” Walter answered, putting the car into gear and pulling away from the house. “Martin Jacob Greyson died two decades ago. He was shot on his farmland and buried there.” Walter glanced sideways at Ray. “He didn’t have any children. No brothers or sisters. And his parents passed away when he was only a child.”

“Do you think we might be dealing with identity theft?” Ray asked.

“A criminal who willingly contacted the police?” Walter shook his head. “We need to keep an open mind. I’m inclined to trust at least part of his story, especially considering what we’ve been getting from witnesses.”

“Keep an open mind. Got it.” Ray nodded.

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you’re disrespectful about someone else’s beliefs.” Walter squeezed Ray’s knee.

“No, sir.” Looking down at his husband’s hand on his knee, Ray reached down and placed his hand over Walter’s. He settled back in his seat and waited for them to arrive.

###

Martin had finished the chores, showered and had breakfast with his two partners. He was settled in between the two of them, arms wrapped around their shoulders, when a knock came on the door.

Grant looked up and towards the door, then focused on Martin. “Do you want me to answer? Since this whole situation is my fault and all?”

“I’ll deal with it.” Martin stood and walked into the hallway, to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he pulled it open and looked between the two men standing close together on his porch. “Come on in.”

The blond followed his partner into the house and Martin closed the door before turning to face them. “I’m Martin. We spoke on the phone.”

“I’m Walter. This is Ray.” He gestured towards the other man.

“Please come and sit down.” Martin walked back into the living room and took his seat once more between his two lovers, leaving the other couch free for their visitors. “Paul, Grant. This is Walter and Ray.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Paul murmured softly.

Grant quickly scrambled to his feet. “Would you like drinks? I’ll go get drinks!” He quickly headed into the kitchen without waiting for a response.

Martin winced as his younger lover’s actions reminded him of his manners and he glanced apologetically at the two newcomers. “It’s been a long time since I had any visitors. I’ve forgotten how to be a good host.”

“More than twenty years, according to the records Walter found.” Ray leaned forward slightly, staring hard into Martin’s eyes. “What’s the story here? You find the old birth and death records for the _real_ Martin Greyson? Decide to adopt the name of a dead man?”

“Ray….” Walter’s voice was pitched low, but there was a clear note of warning in it.

Martin still had his arm wrapped around Paul’s shoulders. He could _feel_ how tense the younger man was. His lover was shaking and Martin pulled him into a tight embrace, kissing his neck and then murmuring in his ear, “Go help Grant in the kitchen. I’ll let you know when to come back.”

Paul stood up, but lowered his eyes as he spoke in a hesitant voice. “You don’t have to protect me from it. I don’t…I know what it was like _before_.”

Martin grasped his arm and turned him slightly to one side, giving his backside a gentle smack to propel him in the direction of the kitchen. “Go on.”

Paul pouted, giving his bottom a quick rub. He leaned down and gave Martin a quick kiss before walking into the kitchen.

Waiting until he was out of earshot, Martin addressed Ray. “Twenty years ago, I was right where you are. Never believed in anything I couldn’t see with my own eyes. Couldn’t touch with my own hands.” He rubbed gently at his chest, imagining he could feel the rough edges of his death scar under his fingertips. “The man who owned the land before me, Bill, was a sick son of a bitch. Murdered his wife. Trapped the spirits here. I saw it play out every single night, but I didn’t heed the warnings. Ultimately, he killed me. I got cocky. I thought I was invincible.” He smiled grimly. “Even after he killed me, Bill wasn’t content to let things stand. More and more souls became trapped here. The curse turned them into something ugly. Twisted.”

There was a silence that went on for a long time; until, finally, Walter broke it. “What made you different from them?” he asked.

“I wasn’t different.” It was hard to admit; to put voice to. Martin couldn’t look at the two men. “I was brought back by the curse. It turned me obsessive. All I cared about was the feud with Bill. Getting this land back. I used Grant to help me do that and I’m not proud of it. Even with Bill finally gone, there was still a sickness here. It’s going to get worse for you.”

“How did the curse end up with my people?” Walter asked.

Martin took a deep breath and glanced towards the door of the kitchen, lowering his voice before he answered. “Grant found a statue that was responsible for the curse. He tried to destroy the statue, but it didn’t work. Eventually, he drove it over the bridge and dumped it into the back of a truck.” He hesitated. “That broke the curse. It brought everyone back to life. At least those people who hadn’t had their remains destroyed.”

Walter frowned. “So our only option is to transfer the curse?”

“I don’t know,” Martin admitted. “I only just found out what had happened last night.”

Ray was sitting quietly, an odd look on his face, staring down at his lap. He didn’t say anything, chewing his lower lip.

Walter reached out and gently squeezed Ray’s arm. “What are you thinking?”

“Just….” Ray hesitated. “I was just thinking about what it would be like if you died. If I had to watch you die every night….” His voice faltered and trailed off. Casting a glance at Martin, he continued, “I’m not saying I believe everything you’re saying, but I can’t really blame Grant for what happened. I’d do _anything_ to save you, Walter.”

“I’m not interested in passing blame around,” Walter said. “I’ll make a call and make sure the remains of the bodies aren’t damaged in any way, if breaking the curse will bring them back.” He stood up and walked to the hallway, pulling out his phone and pressing a number before he began to talk.

After a few moments, the kitchen door was opened and Grant walked in, carrying a tray with tea and a plate of cookies. Paul followed closely behind, staring intently at something on his own phone.

“Where did you get the cookies from?” Martin asked.

Grant put the tray down on the table and then walked over to sit down next to Martin, leaning against him as he answered, “I ordered them online the other week. I figured we’d have visitors at some point or another.”

Paul glanced up from his phone and then, without a word, he sat down on Martin’s lap and leaned back against his chest, cuddling in close.

Martin wrapped one arm around Grant’s shoulders and the other snugly around Paul’s waist. He kissed the younger man’s neck and then glanced up as Walter stepped back into the room.

Before he could speak, though, Paul piped up. “We found some information.”

“Well, stories, really,” Grant hastened to add. “But like with all legends, I figure there’s a kernel of truth there.”

Walter sat down next to Ray and reached out to take his hand, squeezing gently. “What did you find?”

“Some of it was information I already knew,” Grant said. “Like where the statue was hidden here. It infects the ground. Everywhere around it. Where the statue is hidden, nothing can grow.” He swallowed visibly, lowering his voice as he added, “It kind of felt like wading through thick syrup. And when I grabbed the statue, it…I guess it takes energy from people. I blacked out when I got hold of it,” he admitted.

Martin frowned, his fingers gripping Grant’s shoulder a bit tighter, but he didn’t say anything. Grant had admitted his actions had been dangerous. It was on Martin for not pushing him to explain further.

“So it knocks out any person who grabs hold of it?” Ray asked.

“Could be some kind of defence mechanism,” Walter commented. “Like a hedgehog with spines to protect itself. At least we have an idea of where to look for the statue. It can’t be too difficult to find an area where nothing can grow.” He leaned forward slightly, looking intently at Grant. “What new information did you find out?”

Grant looked down towards his hands. “We looked into a lot of different legends and all of them seem to agree on one thing. That the only one able to destroy the statue is one who’s already been cursed by it.”

The silence that fell was heavy.

“So me or Paul?” Martin asked, to clarify.

“Or someone else who died here,” Paul said. “That’s what it said. Only someone who died and came back can ultimately break the curse.” He shrugged. “We just figure that breaking the curse means breaking the statue. But the truth is, that’s not clear in any of the legends either.”

“I have some people I can call back on the reservation, who can tell me if they’ve seen any patches of land that have suddenly had problems,” Walter said. “Will you go with us if we can narrow the area down?”

“Of course,” Martin replied. “You can make the calls from here. Help yourselves to the drinks and cookies.”

###

By the time Walter had finished making his calls and narrowed down an area for them to search on the reservation, it was after lunch time. The five of them had eaten well and drunk homemade lemonade and Ray had offered to clean up in the kitchen. Grant had headed through to join him and the other man was suspiciously quiet as they washed up plates and utensils.

“Something on your mind?” Ray broke the silence, glancing sideways at him.

“I’m worried,” Grant admitted, his voice low. He glanced towards the door, as if concerned Walter or Martin would hear him, and dropped his voice even further as he continued, “That cursed statue has caused so much suffering. I can’t shake the feeling that the statue is going to take them both away from me again.”

Ray was quiet for a few moments as he continued to wash the items and then he asked, softly, “The exact wording in the legend is that the curse can only be broken by someone who’s died and come back, right?”

“Yeah.” Grant nodded.

“Well, if it doesn’t specify that it has to be someone killed directly by the statue’s curse, maybe I could break it,” Ray suggested.

A look of confusion came over Grant’s face. “You died? And came back? Like your heart stopped or something?”

“Or something,” Ray replied. He finished washing the plates and utensils and grabbed an extra tea towel to help Grant finish drying up. “It’s worth a try. Just don’t mention anything to Walter about it,” he added.

Grant winced visibly and commented quietly, “I don’t think keeping secrets from your partner is a very good idea. I know Martin wouldn’t like it.”

“Walter won’t either,” Ray admitted. “But we’re both police officers. And protecting people is part of the job. If I can stop either of your partners getting hurt, that’s what I’ll do. It’s part of my responsibility.” He placed the tea towel down and patted Grant on the shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” He headed towards the door.

“Yeah, except for keeping this from Martin,” Grant muttered, as he followed Ray out of the kitchen.

###

Ray could feel the darkness before they even reached the area Walter had managed to narrow down. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, his husband next to him. Martin was driving his own partners in the car behind them.

It started as a prickling sensation of pins and needles over his skin. Like pins and needles all over. But the closer they got to the area, the more his skin crawled. He glanced sideways at Walter, wondering if his husband felt it too. If Walter was affected as badly as Ray was by the close proximity.

Walter’s hands were gripping the steering wheel tight and he was staring ahead, watching as they approached a patchy piece of the reservation.

Dried, dead bushes covered the scorched area like stubble on a shaved head. Carcasses of animals lay scattered around, many of them in various states of decay. Even flies didn’t hover around the bodies of the dead.

“How did we miss all of this?” Ray muttered, his eyes fixed on the scorched earth. It was hard to catch his breath. Every time he breathed in, it was deeper. As if the amount of oxygen was getting less.

Walter said nothing as he parked the car and checked the mirror, as if to make sure Martin hadn’t been delayed.

Or simply chosen not to come.

Ray relaxed marginally as he saw the small red car pull up just behind them. The vehicle had seen better days, with a rusty paint job and a licence plate with digits barely visible through dirt and mud. But it did run, at the very least.

Walter was the first one to get out, though Ray was quick to follow. He glanced behind them and watched Martin, Grant and Paul get out of their own car. Locking eyes with Grant, he gave a nod of acknowledgement and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Paul stumbled, as if the effects of the curse had hit him all at once. Martin moved to his side, wrapping his arm around his waist to support him. But his own face was pale; nearly grey.

Ray waved Grant over to join him and Walter, as the third member of the trio seemed to be in marginally better shape than his partners. As soon as Grant was close enough that Ray didn’t need to raise his voice, “Where abouts did you find the statue before?”

Grant pointed a trembling finger towards a pile of bodies belonging to birds, rats, mice…other animal bodies so far into decay, they were unrecognisable. He looked between Walter and Ray, swallowing visibly. “It’s like the closer a living thing comes to the statue, the stronger the curse is.”

“Stay here,” Walter directed Grant and began heading towards the pile of bodies.

Ray put his hand on his gun as he followed his husband. The closer they got to the pile, the worse the sense of weakness grew. His chest grew tight and he began panting, sharp and painful.

“Stay back, Ray,” Walter warned.

“No way in hell I’m letting you deal with this alone,” Ray protested.

Walter paused and frowned, narrowing his eyes at Ray, studying him. At last, he said, “I think you should stay back with the others.”

“ _What_?” The word came out in a more injured, hurt sounding tone than Ray had intended. “I don’t need to stay behind. I’m _fine_ ,” he protested.

Walter moved swiftly to his side, but instead of scolding or even swatting Ray, he reached out and grasped his arm, speaking in a low, hoarse voice. “I won’t risk losing you. This curse is affecting _all_ of us.”

But Walter and Grant weren’t as badly affected and there had to be something in that. Some defence mechanism the statue had against those who could destroy it, perhaps. It gave Ray hope that he could keep his promise to Grant. “I can handle it,” he said insistently. “I know you’re worried about me and I love you for it. But this is my job just as much as it is yours.”

Walter’s grip on his arm tightened and, just for a second, fear showed on his face. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again and shook his head. “You take no risks. If it gets to be too much, you fall back. _Promise me_.”

His husband’s grip was tight enough to hurt, but Ray didn’t pull away or voice a protest. He stepped closer, pressing against Walter, and kissed him, wrapping his arms around his husband. When he finally pulled back, he whispered, “I love you. I’ll be careful.”

“The statue will be quite close to the surface,” Grant said, having walked up closer to them.

“I’ll be the one to smash it.” Martin had moved a little closer, letting Paul rest against the car. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Grant, pulling him into a close, tight embrace. “It needs to be done immediately, though.” He paused, took a deep breath and then managed to get out, “I’m not sure any of us can take this for much longer.”

Walter hugged Ray a bit tighter and then let him go. They both quickly headed over to the pile and Walter began to push the bodies out of the way with his foot, clearing an area of the ground.

The patch was black. Completely. Like it had been painted. Ray glanced at his husband, then leaned over, drawing his gun out and using that to dislodge the ground.

It parted easily, as if it was nothing more than ash. And Grant was right: close to the surface was a statue.

It looked harmless enough, a grey statue of a half-man, half-goat with horns that curved above its head. But when he looked at it, it made Ray’s skin crawl. His legs felt like they wouldn’t support him and his throat began to close over. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and his blood rushed in his ears.

Walter’s voice seemed to come from very far away as he called, “Martin, _now_.”

Hands shaking, Ray aimed his gun at the statue and pulled the trigger.

There was a huge explosion and everything went dark.

###

By the time Ray came to again, his head was pounding as if he had a hangover. He whimpered, forcing his eyes open and staring up at the ceiling of his and Walter’s own bedroom. The blinds were down, but there was enough light coming through to indicate it was still daylight.

“You’re awake.”

At the hoarse, emotional tone, Ray rolled his head to one side, wincing as his neck cracked. Spotting Walter on the edge of the bed, he cleared his throat, licked his lips and whispered, “How long have I been out for?”

“Two days.” Walter stood up, disappearing from view. In a few minutes, he was back with a cup of water. He helped Ray to sit up, stacking pillows behind his back to keep him supported, and then held the cup to his lips.

Ray drank slowly, closing his eyes as the cool water trickled down his throat. When it was all gone, he opened his eyes again and focused on his husband. “What about Martin? Grant? Paul?” he asked, his voice sounding stronger now.

“They’re all fine,” Walter answered. “And they’re here. Downstairs. They didn’t want to leave without knowing that you were okay.” He pulled the cup away, a deep frown creasing his brow. “What were you _thinking_?” he demanded. “What _possessed_ you to shoot the statue?”

“Did it work?” Ray asked.

Placing the cup down, Walter crossed his arms and stared hard at Ray. “You did it deliberately, didn’t you?”

“I’d hope so.” Ray smiled, but the smile quickly dropped from his face as Walter’s face darkened. “Sorry. That was a bad joke. Grant was worried about Martin and Paul. I said that I’d try destroying the statue. Since, you know, my history.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to mention past lives. Even if he had accepted it. “The wording of the legend was someone who had died before. And I hadn’t been touched by the statue’s curse.”

“And why didn’t you tell me what you planned?”

“Because you would have stopped me.” Ray winced as the words escaped his lips, but he couldn’t take them back. They were the truth, after all. He looked down at his hands, unable to look his husband in the eyes. “I know I should have told you. I know I acted dangerously. But I didn’t want to risk anything else happening to them. It seems to me that they suffered enough.”

“I agree with that, but not with you deciding to go ahead with trying to destroy the statue without even at least _talking_ to me about it.” Walter looked grim as he continued, “As soon as you’ve had something to eat, we’re going to deal with this.”

“I won’t be able to eat, knowing this is hanging over my head,” Ray admitted quietly. “I know already what I did wrong. I know I deserve to be s…to be punished. I’m sorry. Can we please just get this over with?”

Walter’s eyes swept over Ray’s body before he finally nodded. “I won’t make you wait. We’ll deal with this now.” He settled on the bed and then reached out, grasping Ray’s shoulders and drawing him carefully over his knees.

Ray settled in place and then gripped the bedsheets as his husband tugged his pants and underwear down, baring his backside. For a few seconds, he felt a cool breeze across his bare skin. Then, the next moment, Walter brought his hand down in a firm smack.

Ray had no chance to fully absorb the sting from the first swat before Walter was smacking again and again, covering his entire bottom with firm, stinging swats. He went down to Ray’s thighs and then started over from the top, the swats among the hardest he’d ever given Ray.

Walter delivered three circuits exactly the same and then, when he started over for the fourth time, he was swatting harder and faster.

Tears blurred Ray’s eyes and began to fall. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Ray.” Walter began directing more swats to his thighs. “But what if you’d been wrong and ended up hurt? What if the curse’s power had been directed at you? You had no idea if it was safe.”

“You’re right.” Ray choked on a sob. “You’re right and I’m sorry. _I’m sorry, Walter_.”

“I wish I could just accept that, Ray,” Walter said sadly. “But I need to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Ray couldn’t help tensing up as he heard his husband removing his belt. His hands tightened on the bedsheets as he heard the leather slide over Walter’s hand as it was doubled over. He tensed up as the belt rested against the fullest part of his backside; clenched his cheeks as he felt it lifted.

The belt landed in a whack that left a stripe of fire across his backside. Ray cried out, then sucked in a sharp breath as the second strike landed. He threw his hand back just after the third strike was delivered. “ _I’m sorry_.” Those two words were the only ones he could get out before he began to sob.

Walter took his hand, holding it in a tight grip, and delivered three more strikes from the belt before he stopped.

It took a while for Ray’s tears to die down, even though the punishment was over and his husband was rubbing his back and talking to him in soft, gentle tones. He clung to Walter’s hand as his tears finally slowed to quiet sniffles.

Walter continued to rub and speak softly to Ray until his tears were completely gone and then he carefully helped him up, hugging him tightly and kissing away his tears.

Ray leaned heavily on his husband, sniffling quietly as the raging fire in his backside faded to a dull ache. When his emotions felt more under control, he pulled back a little and wiped at his eyes, then reached down to pull his clothing into place. “You mentioned something about food?”

“We’ll go downstairs and join our new friends.” Walter wrapped his arm around Ray’s waist, squeezing him close as he walked him towards the door of their bedroom.

** The End **


End file.
